


Hand in the Fire

by garbagecollector



Category: DCU (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Dirty Talk, M/M, Sloppy Seconds, dub con flavor: mind says no but body says YES, jason is LIVING IT UP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-12
Updated: 2017-03-12
Packaged: 2018-10-03 03:28:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10234844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/garbagecollector/pseuds/garbagecollector
Summary: Jason's been bored lately, and played with some of Black Mask's henchmen. Roman (obviously) doesn't approve.





	

**Author's Note:**

> The JayRoman tag is so painfully small, and what better ship to write out my intense dirty talking urges???
> 
> Meant to be taking place SOME time during Red Hood and the Outlaws Rebirth. It might be a good idea to close this tab if filthy, filthy words hurtling towards you at a hundred miles per hour isn't your jam.

“Come in, Jason. And close the door behind you.”

As Jason shut the door to Black Mask’s office, he caught a glimpse of the two henchmen guarding the entrance outside share a _look_. He plastered on a scowl before he turned around–  refusing to allow any of the embarrassment from being called like a naughty child to the principal’s office bare itself on his face.

Black Mask looked agitated. Sort of. While the big ball of leather effectively made it impossible for Jason to detect any kind of emotion from his expression, Roman’s shoulders were straighter than usual, and the usual fluidity that colored his every movement from firing a gun to sipping a glass of wine became short and clipped. Jason couldn’t imagine his words from his impending lecture would be any different.

Before Jason had the chance to roll his eyes, and utter something that would rile up his boss even more, Black Mask stormed over, or as stormy as his ever slow, careful strides could be. Even as Roman took his sweet fucking time to make his way across the room, his fists were clenched white, and Jason could see Roman almost failing to reign in his anger as it threatened to disrupt his usual calm, controlled composure.

Jason’s guard rose, as he readjusted himself on his feet, and catalogued the location of each gun and knife he armed himself with today. Roman had seen the dagger on his belt, but he probably didn't know about the knife hidden behind his calf.

Black Mask was close now, and Jason certainly wasn’t going to let himself get decked first. Jason pulled the dagger from his belt, and Roman grabbed his arm as planned. But before Jason had time to release the one strapped to his leg, he was knocked against the door by his neck, and he hissed at the pain from the impact with his head.

And then the rest of him was pushed up against the door. Every inch from his neck to his hips was sandwiched between wood, and Roman’s hard body hidden underneath an impeccable suit. A thick thigh nudged at Jason’s crotch, and his gasp was silenced by Roman’s mouth immediately diving in.

Oh. This again.

Roman was practically attacking him with his kisses, biting his lips, and licking all around inside of him. Jason couldn’t bring himself to move as his mouth was violated–  Roman could probably feel him trembling against him.

He was panting now against Roman’s stupid zippered mouth, as Roman grinded his thigh between his legs, and his hand weakly dropped the dagger he was holding. Finally, Black Mask pulled slightly away, with Jason slumped against the door, still held up by the heavy leg between his thighs.

He felt the touch of tiny, cold metal teeth touch his ear when Roman whispered to him, “How many of my men did you fuck today.”

“Eat shit,” Jason bit out, squirming against the tight hold against his neck.

Roman undid the zipper of Jason’s pants, and shoved his hand right into the back as he muttered, “ _little_ _brat_ ”. His fingers prodded at Jason’s entrance, while Jason resisted the urge to tilt his hips into them. But then they pulled away, and Roman observed the slight wetness on his fingertips.

“Don’t try to be cute with me, kid.” Roman slipped his hand back into Jason’s pants.

“Aw, you think I’m cute?” Jason grinned. He let out a little yelp, when suddenly Roman slid his fingers right into Jason’s soft, swollen, _used_ hole.

“I could practically smell your _sloppy cunt_ from across the room when you walked in.” Jason grit his teeth as heat poured into his face, silently taking every push and prod from Roman’s fingers. “I could taste the _cock_ in your mouth.”

“ _I’m not yours_ ,” Jason gasped out.

Black Mask chuckled. “You always liked to think that the streets of Gotham carved you into a sharp tool, didn’t you?” He slipped in another finger, and Jason let out a low whine. “And then when Batman took you in, you polished yourself into smooth blade, just for him.” Jason tried to protest, but the only sound that came out was another breathy moan.

“But your body knows the truth doesn't it, _son_.” Jason cried out, as Roman’s fingers insistently pushed at that one spot inside of him, his hips stuttering. “No matter how much you tried to train your body or mold it into what you desperately wanted it to be, the truth is you’re always going to be a little street whore. Nothing but a glorified cock sleeve.”

Jason cried out at Roman’s fingers pistoning into him. He didn’t even realize he was crying until he felt Roman’s other hand release his neck and wipe away the tear running down his cheek. He hated Roman. Despised him. But what he despised even more was how he was _right_. Jason always hated how weak he was to that deep craving he had tried to bury deep inside of himself. That he _always_ wanted it.

“I’m going to fuck you against this door, Jason.” Jason’s hips thrusted into those thick fingers, and his crotch against the thigh shoved between his legs at the sound of those words–  the shame keeping him from being able to look up into Black Mask’s eyes. “But I need to hear it from you first.”

“I don’t– ” Jason groaned as he heard the wet sound of Roman’s fingers sliding out of him. “What do you want me to _say_ ,” he panted, trying not to let his tears stain his voice.

“I warned you not to be cute with me, _boy_. You know what I want to hear.”

Every second that there wasn’t something filling him, Jason felt his insides ache. It was unbearable having to look at Roman’s smug grin, but it was even worse feeling so empty, and knowing that he needed it.

Jason felt a tug as Roman fisted a handful of his sweaty hair. “What do you say, Jason?”

A drop of sweat ran down his face, or maybe it was another tear. He knew he must have looked like a wet mess.

“ _I’m yours_.”


End file.
